


The Hawkeling and the Wolf cub

by Possbiliycancer26



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alpha Cole, Alpha Solas (Dragon Age), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Human Cole (Dragon Age), Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Lavellan, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Possbiliycancer26/pseuds/Possbiliycancer26
Summary: Fenris and Sinead Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall give birth to twins. Leto their son, and their daughter Bethany. Raised in Kirkwall, the two are separated from their parents during the Mage rebellion and Bethany, as a mage, is dragged with rest of the Rebels to Redcliffe. Leto follows their uncle Varric to the conclave, in hopes of freeing the dwarf from the chantry. Instead he stumbles into an attack on the Divine and awakens the Hearld of Andraste.  Frightened and alone, he looks for his sister, and finds her amongst the strange mages in his company.
Relationships: Cole/Female Lavellan, Fen'Harel | Solas/Male Lavellan, Fenris/Female Hawke, Original solvellan Child, half elevhen inquistor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. The Hawkeling and the Wolf Cub

“Papae?” Leto called, rousing slowly and rubbing his eyes. Stray curls of black hair fell into his eyes, they’d come loose from his braid during the night. “Mama?”

He could hear his parents voices from downstairs, his mothers voice even and calm, his fathers angry and firm. Beneath both, he could hear soft whimpering, his sister Bethany crying. As he descended the stairs, the voices grew louder.

“Fenris, please! This is all I can do for her,” His mother was pleading, bright blue eyes sparkling with not yet fallen tears.

“No!” His father snarled. “I will not let them take her!”

“Papae, I’m sorry!” Bethany hiccuped and Fenris go on his knees before the girl. He had that look on his face, a look he saved only for his children, as he took her small face in his hands.

“Don’t be sorry, amatus.” He told her in his gentle way. “ You never have to be sorry.” He traced the strange line in his daughter's face, the same lines on Leto’s body, their only inheritance from their fathers time as slave in Tevinter. Fenris got to his feet and looked his wife in the eye.

“They are just bad dreams,” He told her.

“They aren’t-” She began, but then her eyes found Leto and she stopped. “Leto, darling, what are you doing up?”

Leto considered her for a moment and before thinking he said:

“Is Bethany a monster too?”

Hawke recoiled as if she’d been struck. It was his father’s words, not his own she knew that. Still it stung. Fenris acted quickly.

“Do not speak to your mother like that,” He scolded his son. Leto didn’t understand what he said wrong. Fenris went on, looking at his wife. “She is not a monster, neither is Bethany. Your sister just had a bad dream.”

Hawke looked as if she wanted to answer but simply picked Bethany up.

“Back to bed, ma fen,” fenris told his son, picking him and carrying him back up stairs. Leto looked over his father’s shoulder and saw his mother was crying, just as hard a Bethany was.


	2. To Be A Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Hawke and Fenris are away, Leto and Bethany spend time with their mothers family, learning about their Grandfather, their Aunt, and their Mother. Bethany confronts her fathers fears, and Leto dreams of a noble future.

__

**Bethany**

_"Goodbye, my loves," Her mother kissed her forehead one last time, before stepping out the back door of their Grandmothers home, into a cool black night. Her father was somewhere behind, in the inky black, too far away for Bethany to see._

_"Bye!" Leto said shortly, rolling his eyes. He turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs. Bethany sighed, smiled at her mother and said goodbye softly. Her mother looked up the stairs her brother had gone up sadly._

_"I love you, mamae," Bethany whispered. "Be safe."_

_"I will," Hawke answered. "Take care of your brother, love."_

_Then she was gone. Bethany shut the door behind her and took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. Sometimes when she cried, the marks, lyrium weaved into her skin, burned. The fire would eat her alive, burst from her skin and torch the house._

_**How could they leave me again? What if the templars come? What if Uncle Carver-** _

_"Beth!" Leto's voice drew her from her thoughts. He was staring at her, eyes hard and angry, Bethany felt small, more tears spilling down her cheeks. She'd burned the door, seared her handprints into the ancient wood, and he had seen her._

_"You are a monster." Leto growled, his sliver eyes darkening to black._

_"I-i'm not!" Bethany protested, weakly, her voice cracking._

_"You are. You're a savage knife ear abomination," His words were poison, there was a dagger in his hand and he stepped forward sinking it into her gut, twisting._

_"L-leto," Her eyes grew wide as she looks down at the growing scarlet stain on her tunic. Uncle Carver came around the corner, smiled at Leto, pride painted across a handsome face._

_"Very good, nephew. Take the abomination away."_

_"Come here, Bethany."_

_Bethany..._

"Bethany!" 

Her eyes flew open, landing on her brothers worried face. 

"Are you alright? You were crying." He asked, moving from over her, sitting back on his heels. They were in their Grandmothers house, in the room they had slept in since they were children. 

"Bad dream," She blushed, picking her blanket. Leto looked at her for a moment. 

"You...," He sighed. "You should talk to Uncle Carver. Maybe he can-" 

"Papae won't let me. I want to go to the circle, Leto, I do. I just...," She trailed off thinking of her father. They all knew what she was, but Papae would hear it, so they did not speak of it. As far as anyone else knew, Bethany was a talented archer, who rarely slept. They were just nightmares, that's what he said. There was a frantic nature about his denial of it. She looked like him, therefore she was like him, and he was no mage. 

"Papae hates magic," Leto said, taking a deep breath. "But you need help, it doesn't matter if-" 

The door swung open and their grandmother and uncle stood there, looking at them sharply. 

"Are you a mage?" Leandra asked Bethany, Leto stepped infront of her, reaching for the sheathed dagger in his pack. 

"Are you?" Carver asked, forcefully and Bethany winced. She didn't want to lie anymore, didn't want to hide, wanted to learn how to keep the bad dreams at bay, keep whatever foul creautres that lurked in fade from claiming her. She wanted to be strong, like her mother was. 

"Yes," Bethany whimpered and Leanadra made a strange noise. A cross between a gasp and horrible choking sound. 

"I have to take her," Carver said, bluntly and to no one in particular. Leto stepped forward, holding up his dagger, snarling. Bethany's heartbeat became deafening.

"You touch her, you die." Leto spat at their Uncle. Carver smirked at the boy, but did not step away. 

"You will not take my grandaughter to the Kirkwall Circle. You know what-" Leandra said, but Carver cut her off. 

"I'm not taking her to the Kirkwall Circle. I... I don't know where yet," Her Uncle looked at her for a long moment. "I promise, it won't be there. But when the time comes, you must come with me, Bethany." 

Leandra made the strange noise again. Leto looked at his sister, his body still poised to strike if she needed him to. She didn't need him. She didn't need anyone, there was nothing he could do, or Mother, a stupid apostate.

Or Father a tevinter slave , rattus. 

Or Merril, a dalish savage. 

Anger came back, turning into flame, coiling around her throat. 

She was more. She _needed_ more. 

Bethany looked at her Uncle, and trust replaced fear. 

"I promise." She said, her voice louder than she thought. Their grandmother smiled, tearfully, but a smile all the same. Leto relaxed, but glared at Carver, and took his place back by his sister's side. 

**Leto**

He'd been given one job, by the maker, or Mythal, or Dumat, or whoever he was meant to worship. That job was to take care of his sister, to keep her safe. When they were younger, her magic had scared him, but as he grew up, he realized she was just as frightened as he was. He did not know his Uncle, nor did he have a good impression of him based upon his current actions. However he knew that despite Carvers, shall we say, interesting, choice of employment, Bethany needed more than he or his parents could do for her. 

His parents were gone for a week when Leanadra brought up their aunt. 

"You look like her," She told him, and Leto saw his sister flinch. "You have her eyes, and her nose. You're a handsome young man." 

"Am I?" Leto answered, briskly. He knew what he looked like to humans, something strange and wrong. No one knew who his parents were, though some people had guessed. To most, he was a bastard of some lord and his elvhen whore. His name gave him away as Tevinter, at least distantly, which made people think even less of him. Those who did know his parents compared him to his father, a comparison that both made him proud and scared him. His father was a powerful fighter, and a brave man, but there was something dangerous about him. Something terrifying about the will with which protected them. h didn't like the idea of having that within him. 

"Mother should have saved her," Bethany whispered, angry. Leto looked up, equally so. 

"Thats not fair! Mamae did her-"

"She's not a knife ear," Bethany interrupted coldly. "Don't call her that." 

Leto recoiled as if he'd been struck. Merril, their mothers friend, perhaps something more, had taught them the little elvhen they knew. She had taught their father too, it was something they'd learned together, the only thing about them their parents couldn't teach them. Something that could be there, something they would never have to hide. Leto was proud to be an elf, half human or no. Bethany had always seemed the same way but... 

"Knife ear," Leto repeated slowly, rolling the r. "I've never heard you use that. Something happen?" 

Bethany glared at him. 

"You can be proud of it," She snarled. "But I am not. Father ran, like a coward and Mother," She chuckled bitterly. "Mother failed. She failed her sister, and she.. she's failed me." 

She stormed away, tears spilling down her cheeks. Leto sank into his chair, gripping the arms of it, until his knuckles turned white. Leanadra, who had stood silently by during the arugement, sighed heavily. 

"She," She emphasized jerking her head toward to where Bethany had stood. "Reminds me of a young Carver. He was willful, and stubborn, he hated living in your Mother's shadow, being the only non-mage in the house. We never hated elves though. " 

"What happened?" Leto heard himself ask, before he could form the thought. He didn't know what he was asking about, but she answered him nonetheless. 

"We were running," She sighed. "Running from Lothering, your Grandfather..." Tears welled in blue eyes, eyes like his Mothers, like his sisters. "Well anyway, we were in the hills but the darkspwan were all around us. Carver and Sinead fought hard, and Bethany did her best to keep me safe. But I couldn't stop the arrow... and Hawke couldn't stop the bleeding."

He saw tears swimming in her eyes. 

"Carver never forgave her, but it didn't matter. Sinead never forgave herself. Your sister," She wiped away her tears. "She's just like her mother, just like Carver." 

"She's a Hawke," Leto mumbled distantly. His grandmother said nothing, and left him alone after. 

_If she is a Hawke, what am i?_ He asked himself as he drifted off to sleep. In his dreams he saw a wolf, massive and black, a thousand scarlet eyes staring into his own. Eyes that should have scared him but that sent a rush of desire through him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I'm moving and its crazy but here I be!
> 
> So whaz poppin? I love dragon age, I dig the all the games I love it. While modding my game up the wazoo, I found one that was Fenris tattoo's for elves I had a thought. What if this Inquisitor is his kid with Hawke, who wound up there by total mistake. I also just want Cole to love an elf girl, its cute, fight me about it. 
> 
> Chapters one and two set up our family dynamics, but don't expect to be resloved before the conclave because honestly GRRM has nothing on me 🤣🤣
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


	3. Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bethany finds herself in the Circle, and Leto finds himself caught in a trap, they both endure something horrbile, and Hawke makes a dangerous choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo again~ 
> 
> Warning: RAPE SCENE IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT SKIP THE LAST TWO PARTS (LETO AND BETHANY)  
> So from here on it will be in first person, as the last two chapters take place in the past, and this is where the story really starts to take off. The chapters will be longer from here on! Hope you enjoy.

****

Leto

**Bethany**

I awake to Leto's muffled shouting. I roll over, my eyes adjusting to the darkness quickly, and find him, struggle in the arms of a man in armour.

_Templar armour._

Panic sets in and I thrash around wildly, but its too late. A man, I can't see his face in the dark, but he's big, grips my arms tightly, while another clamps shackles on my wrists. Leto's sliver eyes grow wide, and he bucks violently in the grips of the Templar holding him. I watch the man bring the hilt of a heavy iron sword down on my brothers head and I shriek. He crumples, goes still in the mans arms, blood spilling from the small deep gash on his forehead. I hear footsteps in the hall, Mama and Papa are coming, voices shouting; 

"What is the meaning of this?!" Mama demands, her voice raw with rage. 

"Let go of my daughter!" Papa booms. 

"Silence!" The Templar holding Leto shouts and I flinch. Suddenly I can't stop trembling, lightening buzzes in my veins, I ball my hands into fists. "You should've brought her to us. I ought to-" 

"Just take her," A voice says, and I look up, into the face of my Uncle. Mama moans, a wretched raw sound, ripped from her thoart. She couldn't look at him, turning her gaze to me. 

"I love you so much," She whimpers, lifting her hands helplessly. 

"You can't...,"His voice is weak, but he knows they can, knows that they will. Papa looks around furious, angry, scared. "Please, _don't_. "

"It's okay, Papae," I whimper, gulping through the mounting fear. "I'll be okay Mama really." i look at my brother, memorize his face, and pray. 

"Let's go." Uncle Carver says, sadly. My body grows limp and cold, I watch my mother and father grow foggy and disappearing. 

Varric 

I burst into their house just as the sun rises, Isabella, Anders and Aveline on my heels. Broody stands glowering at the wall, his eyes redrimmed and puffy. Hawke is staring into fire place, weeping helplessly. Leto sits on the sofa, sobbing violently, gripping the sides of his head, blood pooling through his fingers. Isabella gasps and rushes to the kids side, gently pulling his hands away. The kid looks up, grey clouded, and whimpered her name. Not Isabella's.

"Bethany?" His voice was small, and far away. For a moment, Bella just looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes before she took him in her arms and rocked him back and forth gently as he wept

. "What happened?" I croak, and Fenris starts. He hadn't noticed we were here, is alarmed to see us for a moment, but then his shoulders slump and he shakes his head. I look at Hawke, who looks at Leto, as if he were some trick of the Fade. I knew how she felt. Not really, I could never know that, but there was something deeply unnerving about seeing Leto without his sister. They were always together, always meant to be together, and seeing them apart was more of an abomination than anything I've seen yet. Anders kneels in front of Leto, carefully and silently tending to the kids wound. Bella holds his hand, while Leto stares blankly at them, as if he can see through them.

"Was it Carver?" Aveline asks, and Fenris looks up at her. "He took her." Fenris begins but Leto cuts in.

"He _promised_ ," The kid moans, gripping Isabella. "He said anywhere but Kirkwall. He promised and she _trusted him_. " 

"You _knew_?" Fenris snarls. 

The words wrench a terrible cry from Hawke, who grips her throat tightly. Fenris roars and rips a shelf from the wall, hurling against a far all. 

"I wanted to tell you!" Leto shrieks, suddenly panicked. "I wanted to-she wanted to go, she was scared, Papae. T-thats all, she-," 

Fenris grabs his son, and the boy freezes. Hawke falls silent, rising to her feet. Isabella reaches for daggers and Anders narrows his eyes. 

"Hey!" I step forward, holding up both hands. "Let him go, and let's talk." Broody snaps his head around to look at me and growls something I don't understand. 

"Listen, I-," I begin, but Hawke speaks over me. 

"You will let my son go," She whispered, in that voice that sent chills down my spine. Fenris reacted much the same way, letting Leto go, dropping the kid back on the sofa. Leto sat very still, staring at his hands, no longer crying, eyes empty. Fenris wasted no time gathering his things and leaving, Bella chased after him with Aveline. Leto fell asleep, or maybe passed out from the stress, I can't blame the kid. I sit down next to Hawke and look at her. 

Her face is swollen, her eyes red, armour half on, as if she thought to go get her back. We both knew how that would end. She was defeated and there was no revenage to be had. They have her now. 

"What happens now?" She asks, bitterly. "Do I go on? Do I go save her? Do I-" She looks back at her son. "What do i _do_?" She falls onto my shoulder sobbing anew.

"I don't know kid, but I'm here," I tell her, knowing its not enough. It'll never be enough. 

**Bethany**

I wake up in a cold stone cell, dressed in a thin cotton dressing gown. There is wet hay on the ground, sticking to my feet and calfs. The smell is horrid, it smells like the darktown sewers. My eyes start to wonder, and I wonder if I should tell someone I'm away, but a door swings open and two men walk in. The first is the oldest, with thin greying brown hair and ugly beetle eyes. The second is older than Papae, with black hair and menacing green eyes. 

"She's prettier in the light," The old one says to the other, and I recongise their voices. 

"Look at her," The younger man leers, staring at me, dragging his eyes hungrily over my body, lingering on my hips and chest. 

I take a step back, pressing my back against the cold stone wall. The dampness, whatever it is, sticks to my clothes. The old man grins, and begins undoing his armour. 

"C'mere, you little savage whore. I've not had a halfbreed before. Bet your twice as sweet." The words make my stomach turn, but theres no where for me to run. I whimper and the young man moans. 

"Make that noise again." He grins, licking his lips. I hold up my hands, helplessly, but he grabs them both in one hand and twists it behind my back. The old man rips my gown from my body and the cold air bites my skin. I scream, throw my head about and shriek as loudly at I can, before a heavy metal hand swings down and hits my jaw. Blood rushes in my mouth, and stars spark behind my eyes. 

"Get er on the ground," The old man grunts, fumbling with his pants. The other man throws me to the ground and shoves the tattered remains of my gown down my throat. He grips my arms and holds me in place. 

"Here we are then. Be a good girl for me, and I'll give you a bed," The old man mumbles, pressing his slimy lips to my own. I sob around the gag in my mouth as he forces his way into my body. He gives me no time, not adjustments, just uses my body savagely, while whispering what a good girl, a good _mage,_ i am. When he is done, I feel the blood pooling between my legs. 

The young man takes his place. He is cruel. He threatens me, threatens my life, if I were to tell. His hands come around my throat and squeeze the air from my lungs. I try to move but he's so heavy, I try to call for help, but I can't hear my voice beyond the disgusting cotton shoved down my throat. My body aches, my bones trembling. When he was done, he spat on me, called me vermin and they left me alone. My eyes close and I slip into a dream. 

_In my dreams I see a young man. He was pale and handsome, with yellow hair and blue eyes. He sits upon a large rock, holding a daisy between his fingers, regarding it from under a large hat._

_"Sweet, and small like a flower, gentle and bright like a candle, ageless and ancient.They don't understand you," He rambles, looking up at me. I still. He might be a demon, but he doesn't look like one._

_"Will he hurt me too? Like the carver, making dolls from wood, like the burning sword to keep away the monsters. I am not a monster. I am Cole."_

**Leto*****

My sister is gone. I reach into the void, trying to find her, to pull on the thread that had always held us together, but it is gone. She is gone, and I cannot save her.

I don't know if I slept. I don't know if you can call it sleep. I lay still with my eyes closed, until they opened again. I found no rest, no dreams, no peace. Just unending darkness, silence. Uncle Varric and Isabella have started staying in the house. Mamae won't leave her room won't eat or speak to anyone. Sometimes she comes down at night and waits for Papae to come home. She waits and waits, and when he doesn't come, she drinks. Varric and Isabella try to keep it from me, but I know. 

We aren't whole without Bethany. We can't be. I failed her, I failed all of them, it's all my fault. I whimper and lower my head, resting my face in my hands. 

Fed up with my own drama I sneak out of the house in the middle of the night. I don't know where I'm going, but once my feet touch the ground the movement seems natural. Krikwall is quiet at night. Varric once told me it was the best and worst time to be in the city. 

"You might die," The dwarf had winked as he told me. "But it's a helluva a beautiful place to die." 

First I make my way to the chantry, stare up at statues whose faces have worn away with time. I pass a group of young women, who all gawk at me. 

"He's a lovely bit, isn't he?" One crows and they all giggle. 

"Lovely but dirty," Says another, in nasal voice. 

"I like a bit of dirt. Imagine the things he could do." 

"You know what they say about halfbreeds!" 

They all dissolve into laughter. 

My skin crawls. Humans are strange to me, when all else goes, there is sex. It is their power and their drive, they fear it, crave it, guard it. They make it holy and unholy. I will never understand it, but I will always be an object of their lust. That was the first lesson Papae taught us. 

I rush away, running down the steps, the back of my neck burning and my cheeks burning. I know what I look like. I have my mothers face, her hair, and Fathers eyes. My ears curve into a point beneath thick curls of black hair. I'm slender, with a small waist and I've been mistaken for a girl before. Isabella taught me that being beautiful can be a tool. But thats a lesson I wish I never had to learn. 

"Look at this, lads," A voice draws me from my thoughts. I've wandered from the street, I realize swearing under my breath. He reaches for me, and I stumble backward into the solid chest of another man. 

"Halfin' girl? Never seen one," This grunts, sniffing my hair. I jerk away, growling. 

"She's a pretty one," The first says, gripping my jaw tightly. I spit in his face. He knees me in the stomach. 

"Grab her legs," He tells his friend. I can't breath, my lungs aching as they heave. I am dimly aware of being lifted, the backs of my hands dragging over the cold marble road. I can feel the lights we pass under, but there a very few and before long I realize that I'm being pushed into a small hovel. I'm tossed, my head knocking against the dirt floor, cracking loudly in my ears. I groan softly, copper filling my mouth. 

"Please," I slur, coughing, spraying blood all over my face. They laugh. Hands begin roaming my body, they begin muttering softly, pressing disgusting kisses over my face and down my neck. When my pants come off, they stop. 

"A boy then?" One says and the other chuckles darkly. "I don't want no boy." 

"I'll keep 'im. Get out of 'ere." 

There is grumbling, and one of them leaves. I think he speaks to me but my blood is rushing through my ears. Suddenly I am very cold, alert and my nerves light on fire. The man pushes toward me. When his hands reach my waist, gripping my hips, and rolling me onto my stomach.

"PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!" Terror grips me, I kick wildly, screams ripping from my throat. "PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE!" 

"No one's gonna save you boy. Just lay still," The man growls, wrestling me to the ground, his hand on the back of my neck. I sob, violently and wish for my father, my mother, Isabella, Varric. Anyone. 

Something in me tore. I screamed on final time, and passed from the world. 

_There is a boy, watching me from a tree, his head cocked to the side._

_"this shouldn't have happened. filled with dread but not Dread. " he says. "_ _lone wolves can't survive without a pack."_


	4. Leto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto has strange dreams of Pride, and learns an old name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Sorry this took so long and is shorter! I've been busy with well life.. but i'm back expect more from me and I shall deliver. So there's some elven in here, the translation is at the bottom, and is rough. Also I took alot of inspiration from Cole, and the way he interacts with the world, so I'm doing something similar with Leto and Bethany. Hope you enjoy!!

**Leto: Kirkwall**

I find my way home, bleeding and sobbing, clawing my way through the alleys of darktown. The dagger I managed to keep grip of held in front of my body, trembling as I attempted to ward off any danger. My shoes are gone, the soles of my feet cut open over the rough stones, blood drying and layering over my skin. My lungs heave, and my knees buckle. I crash to the ground near Anders' clinic, dragging myself forward on my knees. 

"Anders," I whimper, weekly, leaning against the door and panting. There is no sound on the other side of the door. "Please...Anders, please...I don't want to die..." 

"Leto? Maker's breath, what are you doing out here?!" It's Aveline. Her brow is furrowed, squinting to see me in the dark. A wet gurgling sound escapes from my throat, a mixture of relief and terror. 

"Help me, Aveline," I beg, reaching for her, before falling into the black. 

****

**Leto: The Fade**

" **Dirthara-ma fen'Harel enansal...," A voice on the wind, such warm wind, whispers in my ear. It blows around my face, sea spray hitting my cheeks. Beautiful sparkling green water laps at my ankles, warm and comforting, cleaning away the blood. I watch it list with the tide, tendrils of scarlet phasing in and out of view.**

**"G **aras solasan**.." The voice calls to me, and I want to turn my head...but the sun is warm...and the water kind.... " **Mar solas ena mar vhenan..**." **

**I turn to find a man, tall a** **nd fierce, dres** **sed in a black armour, with glowing green runes running across his chest and down his left arm. Draped over his right shoulder is a heavy black wolf pelt. As I examine the pelt more closely, I notice the wolf had three eyes.**

**Not a man, I think as my eyes dart up to his face, over cheeks bones like glass, and a slender pointed nose. Intense brown eyes that almost sad under a furrowed brow, a smile playing on his lips. He is like no man I have ever met, expect maybe Anders...**

**Anders?**

**Justice.**

**Only he is not justice, he is something else, something more, darker and brighter, cold and lonely as the moon and fiery like the sun. I'm afraid. I take a step back, but he reaches for me, his hand catching mine. His touch feels like fire, like home, and hell, like war and peace. Like...**

**Pride.**

**"Very good, _da'len._ " He hums. "Do you remember what you are?" **

**He grips my chin with long elegant fingers,**

Leto- Anders Clinic

I open my eyes to Anders sweaty face over mine, and pain shooting through my back and stomach. My throat aches, and my eyes burn. I make a strange noise, a warble perhaps, and it catches his attention. 

"Water!" He says to someone I can't see. Then water begins to trickle past my lips, down my throat, easing some of the pain. _More,_ I plead silently and perhaps I said it aloud, because more comes. 

"Can you talk, kid?" Varric's gruff voice fills my ears and I try to turn to him, looking over him. My neck aches, splintering pain down my spine. Another warble. "Maker's breath." He groans. Suddenly I feel ashamed, somewhere in the fog of pain, I feel weak and tiny. 

"Where the hell is my son?!" Papae's voice roars, and there is the sound of booming wood. 

"Serrah, please," A woman is pleading with him, trying to calm him. 

_I'm here, Papae,_ I want to say. _I'm here._

I strain, trying to sit up, but pain blurs the edges of everything. 

"We're right here, kid," Varric says. "Just hang on." 

"I don't understand," Anders... Justice growls. "Who could've done this to him? Why?" 

_He'd never had a_ halfling....

**Leto-The Fade**

_I stand in a library now, a beautiful library more elaborate than any I have ever seen. I turn around in circle, drinking in the beauty of this place. Shelves cover the walls on all sides, stacked on top of each other with wide paths between them golden tiles, books bound in colours I cannot name fill the rows, stacked the base of shelves. The paths stop at small alcoves with beautiful ornate desks covered in papers. I stand at the very bottom, beside a fountain, bubbling with sparkling clear blue water, and a few feet in front of me, a set of wide flat steps lead to a strange mirror, that seems alive._

_"Curiosity," A voice says, and I turn around to find Pride. He isn't wearing armour, but a simple tunic of grey wool and black leather leggings. His feet are bare, and from tips of his pointed ears dangle gold hoops. He's sitting on the fountain, watching me._

_"I am what I am. " I say, though I don't know why. It makes him smile._

_"Do you know what you are, da'len?"_

_I shake my head, and he laughs a soft lonely sound, like a violin..._

_"Ir abelas, da'fen," He says quickly._

_"What does that mean?" I ask and his eyes sparkle._

_"Little wolf," He says and I cringe. That is my Papae's name, the name his Master gave him. The name that made him a slave._

_"I am no wolf," I snarl, not meaning to._

_"But you are," He shakes his head. "You have forgotten. You wanted to change...to help. And then...you left. We... I drove you away." His voice is strained and miserable. He reaches for me, fingers ghosting my lips and I shiver. "And you returned. Here," He laughs bitterly. "Now. Though I cannot imagine why."_

_"To help," I say, again without thinking, I reach for his hand and place it on my face. "To change."_

Leto- Anders Clinic 

When I open my eyes, the pain has dulled, though my throat still burns, I can at least turn my head, resting my cheek on the rough pillow and staring at Varric's sleeping face. 

"You're awake." It's Papae, standing at the foot of my cot, looking at me with a strange face. Fearful, maybe, relieved. Enraged. "What happened, Leto?" 

I don't know how to tell him, so at first I don't answer. I try to think of something, but I only recall the smell of the cellar, sex, putrid and strong, how his sweat clung to my skin, the knife that dragged along my stomach and dug in. Dug and bit, twisted and-

"I was looking for you, and some thugs got the best of me," I lie to him, softly, without meeting his gaze. 

"Don't be ashamed, son," He says after an uncomfortable silence. "You are still young." 

I don't answer, close my eyes and pretend to sleep. I lay there silently,waiting on bated breath while he watches, until he leaves. Then I weep. Crying hurts, each sob wracks my body with blinding pain, but I don't stop. I live in the pain, let it sink deep into me, stare it in the face and let it devour me. I don't want to be anymore. 

Varric stirs next to me, starts awake, stills when he hears my crying and places a warm hand over mine. My fingers catch around his, I cling to him, like a child lost. 

"I'm right here, kid," He rumbles, his deep voice soothing. "Right here." 

Leto-The Fade 

" _I see your pain, da'len," Pride says, solemnly. "Ir abelas."_

_"So it means your sorry," I say ignoring the comments._

_"It does," He smiles._

_"Papae did not know very much elven... or at least," I consider it for a moment. "Any he cared to teach me."_

_"You do not need to be taught." Pride answers._

_"I have much to learn, haren," I say, turning to face him. "Is that why I'm here? In this library?"_

_"You have always been here," He says sadly. "You simply...forget from time to time. Or you go elsewhere."_

_"And I am elsewhere now?"_

_He nods._

_"Is that a bad thing?"_

_Pride considers me for a long time, before shaking his head._

_"No," He hums. "I do not think it is."_

_"Is Pride your name?" I ask._

_"Solas," He corrects and I know it is the same._

_"What am I?" I don't understand the question, but know it is the right one._

_"You were... more," He trails off sadly, his eyes growing dark. "You were Sul'revas... Freedom and Purpose."_

_"I was? What happened?"_

_Our eyes meet, he holds my gaze and raises his chin._

**_Flashes of memories that are not mine, of Solas, covered in blood, grinning wolfishly as he takes me in his arms. The smell of blood and steel, magic crackling in the air. My hands over the face of a child, pulling enslavement from their very blood._ **

_"I did."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translation
> 
> Dirthara-ma fen'Harel enansal- May you learn Fen'Harel's joy 
> 
> Garas solasan- Come to a prideful place 
> 
> Mar solas ena mar vhenan- Your pride will be your heart
> 
> Sul'revas- Freedom's Purpose


	5. Bethany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bethany lives her life in dreams, learning about her past and future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hope you enjoy, next chapters is the conclave.I'm really sorry this took sooooo long, and its sooo short. I kinda got caught up in you know life, school, pandemic lol. But upside to quarantine i can work on this a lot more! I hope everyones staying safe!

Bethany and Cole In The Fade 

**Bethany**

_The boy's name is Cole. He sits beside me, in a meadow of green wildflowers, picking them and twirling them between his fingers. Sometimes he talks, but I don't often understand the things he says._ _He calls me a flower, and talks about monsters and carvers. Sometimes I think I know what he means, but then the thought drifts away. Cole helps me be calm, his voice soft and low, lulling me into a sweet sense of safety. He is always gone when I wake up._

My eyes flutter open, the underside of the bunk above mine looming over me, blocking the light from the window. I collect myself slowly, looking for Cole the same way I always do. I know he won't be there. I just always hope he is.

I slip out of my bed and shrug off my dressing gown and replace it with the Circle provided robes. They hang loosely from my frame, drooping off my shoulders and the waist falling below my knees. They can't seem to find anything to fit me. I look in the mirror staring at my face, pale and gaunt, eyes hollow. My hair has grown wild, frazzled curls spilling down my back to my waist. 

The lessons are very long, tiresome and dangerous. Those who aren't not faithful enough disappear, and quickly. There was girl, an elf from the alienage who came from a dalish clan. She wouldn't sing that Chant. They stole her one day, and I haven't seen her since. Her name was Dailae. I make myself remember her name, other wise it's as if she was never here. No one cares.

_._

_"Is love like this?" Cole asks me, holding a small crab with a broken shell in gruff hands. Gentle hands, I think healing hands._

_"Yes, Cole " I nod. "Love is like helping and healing. Love is about sometimes fixing and maybe... breaking." I furrow my brow remembering something painful and much too real._

_Cole lets the crab grow and balls his fists._

_"He didn't love you. Hate balled up tight, a elf with his sisters face, sisters name, sisters gift. Not right, demon, monster. I knew it, I knew she was a monster. I'm sorry Bethany, she has your name."_

_I gawk at him, tears spilling down my cheeks, hiccuping and pulling away. Suddenly everything is cold, and the beach is gone, the garden and meadow so far away I can no longer imagine them._

I move like a dead person, my limbs feel like stone. My lips are dry and bleeding, food makes me ill, I can feel the rage in this place, crackling like lighting in the air.

"Sweet Andraste help me," I whispered, kneeling before a statue of Our Lady. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I clasped my hands together shaking violently. 

The templars are always watching, eyes heavy on my back, but kept my eyes down and walked calmly, reminding myself to breath. I followed the other Apprentices into the library and found my teacher, a elven woman called Lyna. She was older than mama, with yellow hair and bright blue eyes. She moves slowly, turning the pages of the book in front of her with intense focus. She is Tranquil, her mind cut off from the Fade, no dreams, no hopes, no emotions. Because she wasn't strong enough to fight the demons. Bethany sallowed thickly, and picked up the book about runes, staring blankly at the words, without truly seeing them. She'd been here for months now, though the days had long since bled together. Leto came sometimes to see her, but she didn't like to look at him. He'd grown so much, he was taller and stronger, his voice was deeper, but whats more he looked too much like Mama. Too much like Carver. A pair of pointed ears was all that remained of the brother she'd known. 

Sometimes she heard stories, the templars talked to one another, about the Knight Captain, about the Champion, her mother, about the mages. 

"Fighting for Qunari now, is she?" Grunted one Templar to the next. 

"Just what I heard," The other answered, shaking his head. "Just what I heard." 

The scraps of information were all she could get, Mama couldn't risk coming to see her. It was one thing for Mama, the Champion to be a Mage. It was another thing for her to hide a half elven daughter. And the slavers who hunted Papae, if they suspected that even in fragment of the power they'd given to him rested in his children, Maker save her, she didn't know what they'd do. So Bethany was alone, with her dreams of a sweet boy who spoke of flowers and broken things, and her days of fear and panic. 

She wondered how much longer she could last. 


	6. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto struggles with the aftermath of conclave. Solas allows himself to find his Purpose

Leto

He ran through the ruin of the Temple. Varric was beside him, the nameless Elf and Cassandra- the Seeker who had taken Varric and brought him here in the first place. He didn't trust her, she'd accused him of destroying the Conclave and cursing himself with this foul magic that dripped from his hand. They'd saved a group of scouts in the mountains, he'd close two rifts so far and his body ached from the strain. 

"The Temple of Scared Ashes," The Elf said gravely.

"What's left of it." Varric whispered. 

"That's where we found you," Cassandra said, pointing toward a black scorched mark on the ground. Leto slowed as he jogged around it, staring down at it with watery eyes. Pushing forward, he slowed at the breach in the fade. Green light spilled from it, and soldiers had managed to circle around it, all eyeing it warily from perches in the ruins. Leto felt it when their eyes turned on him. He felt hot and tired, his feet floated beneath him but his legs ached bitterly. 

"If you can close it, you may be able to close the breach." Cassandra said, confidently. Leto gulped and wobbled toward the ledge. The drop made him a little woozy but he could manage it. 

"Right, then," He said dryly, tossing a smile over his shoulder. "Shall we?" 

He launched himself over and landed on one knee. The others followed quickly and Varric helped him to his feet. 

"Okay, Kid?" His uncle frowned and Leto fought the urge to admit the pain he was in. His hand felt like daggers stabbing through it. But he felt something, else a cold chill down his spine. The rift crackled. Voices poured out. 

_ "Someone help me!"  _ The womans voice broke his heart, his shoulders sagged. 

" _ What's going on here?" His own voice called out.  _

_ "A halfing?" A shadowy figure with a voice of raw rage. But the tone changed as it spoke again. "A slave of my countrymen. Take the boy!"  _

"What are we hearing?!" Cassandra roared at Leto and he flinched away. 

"I don't-," 

"The fade bleeds into this place. They are echoes of what happened here." The Elf looked at him frowning. "It is sealed but not closed. Though it may call alot of attention we will have to open it again. You will." 

"Yes," Leto whispered, lifting his arm. 

"Demons!" Cassandra bellowed. "Be ready!". 

Leto opened his palm and the lightning struck his body again. A pride demon burst forth, flanked by shades and gnashing violently at them. Panic set in, tears spilling down his cheeks, his legs felt like lead but he bounded out of the way of a whip of lightning.

The strange daggers were to heavy for him but he swung them deftly, bringing down the first shade. Varric shot the second. He thought he might die. His skin was burning, sweat dripping from face, dry scorching heat claimed his thoart. 

_ Not a slave. _ His mind whispered.  _ Not a halfling...not small not.. a victim. Freedom- that's your name...what you are...Freedom and purpose.. _

"Anngh," He choked, sobbing as fire erupted from his skin, flames licking at his skin like it was alive. His hand burned with the foul green light and it connected with the rift. People were screaming at him, he couldn't hear them. The sky spilt in half. Leto fell. 

  
  


Solas

What happened? He didn't understand. He was supposed to be gone, gone with the others but there he was, bright and breathing and born again as this boy. A halfling. 

Leto Lavellan. That is how he identified himself but the lie was a clear one. He claimed to have been taken in after leaving home- but never said where home was. His skin, his eyes they betrayed the human side his accestry. The Freemarches or Fereldan perhaps. Pale white skin and icey blue eyes. 

But his hair was dark, thick and wavy, the markings on his face were not vassalin, as they might seem to human eyes. They were seared into his flesh, burning from within. Lyrium. Only a slave of Tevienter would bare such a mark in this age.

Solas carried Leto to a cabin, moving as quickly as he could. The boy was trembling violently from the onslaught of magic that had overtaken him. 

He hadn't thought the boy was a mage before. He didn't seem to be one. But there was doubt whatever he had been he was a mage now. He pulled the boys charred clothes off and felt his thoart grow dry. 

This body was familiar. The slim hips and thick thighs, the toned stomach. His Purpose, returned to him. 

"Ir abeleas," He whispered, when Leto jerked forward in his sleep. He spooned drops of healing poition through the boys cracked lips. 

After the boy was stable he left him with instructions for the healers and returned to his cabin. He settled cross legged on the floor and stepped into the Fade.

_ He was there, in the libary. Crossed legged beside a window.  _

_ "You came." Solas whispered, chewing his lower lip.  _

_ "Didn't you want me to? Hasn't the Dread wandered howling for his lost lover?" Purpose turned to him and wore Leto's face. But he seemed more himself somehow. The curve of his nose was the same. His mouth had the same curve, his cheekbones high and sharp. His hair was long and wavy, framing his face, flushed and fierce.  _

_ "Ir abelas," He whispered, reaching but Leto spun out of his grasp.  _

_ "Are you? You gave it to him, Solas. You gave him a power that should have been kept safe!" Real rage burned in his eyes. "We trusted you. I trusted you and you almost destroyed me."  _

_ Solas flinched backward. It was true. He'd lost his love when the veil came down, Purpose had always been more of the Fade than Solas. His body had been never steadfast. He at some times appeared to be a young man other times an old woman. Elf or human. But his being had always been the same. Laughing in the face of danger, roaring in the face of evil.  _

_ "But I didn't. And you came back. Didn't you?" Solas moved forward and Leto stepped backward. "Why him? Why now?"  _

_ "Because...because my sister needed me. And I needed you. Or someone like you." His voice broke as Solas wrapped long arms around him. "I won't remember when we wake up. You'll have to wait. But I waited for you. So it's fair, isn't it Pride?"  _

_ Pretty blue eyes turned up toward him.  _

_ "More than fair."  _

When he opened his eyes his cheeks were wet. The sun was up and humans had gathered outside talking loudly. 

They named him the Hearld of Andraste. He seemed wary of everyone around him, fragile and timid. Cassandra assigned Solas with the task of teaching him magic. Leto had come to him, trembling in armour that suited him better. He carried his daggers on his hip, and gripped a new staff in his hands. 

"Hello," The boy spoke, his voice sweet and husky. "My name is Leto. You are Solas?" 

"I am, dalen. " 

Leto smiled a little before gesturing to the staff. 

"I've never used one of these." He lifted it, twirling it slowly. Fire began to flicker at the tip. 

"Show me. Follow your instincts." 

Leto

Solas. 

Something about him was familiar. His eyes were a cool grey that caught Letos eye. He had hair, very little but it was dark. Scars were ghosts beneath the skin along his ear and jaw. Letos stomach clenched as Solas looked him over, icy grey eyes travelling down his body. 

The staff was light, but bulky compared to his daggers. He swung it slowly aiming at a hay bale. It brust into flames. He began twirling it in hand, moving his feet slowly, sending balls of fire at the hay. Each found its target with no hesitation. 

"Excellent," Solas praised him. Leto grinned at him. 

"Do you think I could use daggers? For magic, I mean?" He asked eagerly. Solas looked taken aback but smiled. 

"Yes. I do." He answered, leading Leto into his cabin. The Elfs space smelled like elf root and something else. Wet earth perhaps, the dust of old forgotten places. He pulled a book down from the shelf and flipped through the thin pages. He found what he wanted while Leto looked around, wondering about this strange mage. 

"Here it is," Solas called to him and Leto came to look at the book. Long hand sweeping words he couldn't quite understand, surrounded by sketches of elves with daggers that crackled with lightning and bows that brought the fade to life. Oddly enough, they all had this markings his father had. The ones he had. Lyrium seared into his skin, fused to his being.

"I can do this?" He asked shyly. 

"You can try. I will help you." 

Weeks passed and Leto busied himself outside of pratice with Solas. He trained with Cassandra and spoke with Josephine learning as much as he could about Oralis before he went to Val Royeoux. He also helped around Haven, fetching things for qaurter master and the apotchery. The black smith was impressed with his skill at the forge and let him mend armour sometimes. It was a month before they left for the city. Solas came, as did Varric and Cassandra. 

While they were camping, a day away from the city, Leto had a strange dream. 

_ There was a war. Blood and death, elves dying all around him. Tears spilled down his cheeks as a boy died infront of him.  _

_ "Please!" He screamed whirling on his heel to face someone- the one who caused this fighting. "Please make this stop!"  _

_ Grey eyes found his.  _

_ "I can't."  _

The voice belonged to Solas. Leto tried to shake the dream away. Solas was kind to him, always made time for him, didn't treat him like a child. He had gone above and beyond in Letos training. 

"Are you well, dalen?" He asked as they came to the gates of the city. Leto nodded, distracted by all the gold. Kirkwall was all iron and steel. This place glittered like a treasure trove. 

"Hang in there," Varric said pointedly. Cassandra spoke a scout then led him inside the city. 

A group of sisters and citzens of the city had gathered. They glared and spat at him as he passed. He felt himself shrinking, hands shaking. Solas took his hand. A thrill ran through him. Solas' skin was warm beneath his, twice the size of his own and soft.

"It's alright," Solas told him and Leto knew it was true. 

"We say this is a false prophet. The maker would send no halfling in our time of need." 

The Sister pointed at him. 

"Please! I don't claim to be a gift from the Maker. I don't think so highly of myself. But if I can help, then I want to."

Cassandra looked at him as if surprised. 

"It's true. The inquisition only wishes to restore order."

"Just let us help," Leto pleaded, gripping Solas' hand tightly. "Before its too late."

"It is already too late." Templars marched onto the stage. "The Templars have rejoined the Chantry. They will stamp out this false inquisition." 

But the lead templar struck her across the face. 

"Why did you do that?" He asked, his voice carrying. 

"We are better than them. They are beneath us." The man growled out. 

"Lord Seeker, I must speak with you-," Cassandra moved forward. 

"Don't you speak to me. You should be ashamed of yourself. Raising a child up as Andrastes Hearld. "

"If you aren't here to help why come?" Varric asked, rolling his eyes. 

"To get the measure of you," The Lord Seeker looked closely at him. 

Leto clung to Solas, who angled his body blocking Leto from view. 

As they left they spoke to a messenger from a Grand Enchanter and another from someone called Red Jenny. As they left to find their way to the Salon, an elven woman came toward them. 

"Leto Lavellan?" She called and he stopped short. "I've heard much about you. To come into your magic at such a time as this." She shook her head. 

"Grand Enchanter Fiona," Solas said and Leto looked up at him. He realized dimly he hadn't let go, but Solas hadn't either. 

"What are you doing here?" Cassandra spoke, suspicious. 

"Come to Redcliffe," Fiona looked from Solas to Leto and back again. A knowing look flashed in her eyes. "We have much to discuss." 

They left the city and met with a Grand Enchanter called Vivenne. She was beautiful and seemed to find Leto cute in the way one might consider a small dog. She agreed to meet them at Haven. They also met an elf called Sera, who was odd but reminded Leto of home. She too would be joining them. 

The journey home took a week. By the third day, Leto was ill. His body was hot, his sleep haunted by dreams of blood and war and Solas and wolves. Solas, while he was awake, seemed aloof almost, letting Leto cling to him, but never discussing it. Varric had asked but Leto had no answer and gave none. 

By the time they arrived in Haven, Leto knew something was wrong. He crashed into his cabin and stripped his clothes away. His body was flushed and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin. He doubled over in pain and curled up, pulling the blanket over his head.

_ I'm burning, Solas. Help me...I'm burning. _


	7. Redcliffe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto is embarssed. Bethany meets Cole.

Leto

  
  


"I want to go to Redcliffe," Leto whispered, sweating, trembling and leaning against the War Table. Cassandra and Leilana shared a look. 

"The mages may not be our only choice," Cullen said but Leto growled in the back of his throat.

"I don't trust the Templars," He spat. "I'm going to Redcliffe. Cassandra, I'd like you to come with me." 

Cassandra agreed, and Leto staggered from the war room. Cullen followed him. The Templar was three times his size, but oddly kind. Leto remembered him, he'd seen him as a child in Kirkwall. He hadn't stopped to talk to him, Varric had advised against it and the dwarf was all the family he had left. He wanted to go to Redcliffe- perhaps Fiona would be able to help him with the fire that was eating him alive. Maybe she could teach him to keep the demons away. Furthermore, he hoped he might find Bethany amongst the rebel mages. 

"Herald?" Cullen called after him and Leto whirled around to look at the templar. 

"Commander," Leto squeaked out. He smelled like lyrium, a familiar icy scent that reminded him of home. Of Papae and Bethany and….

"You look like your mother." Cullen said, his voice lowered. Letos blood ran cold. He turned slowly toward the commander.

"My mother?" 

"Hawke." 

Leto took a stumbling step backward but Cullen had a kind expression. 

"Your secret is safe, Leto. Can I ask, do you know where she is?" 

"No," Leto mumbled. "I haven't seen her since…" 

_ The chantry was burning. The walls were crumbling, the streets were stained red  _

"I see," Cullen said softly. "Leto how old are you?" 

"17." 

Cullen frowned and Leto knew he was trying to make sense of it. 

"My parents...they met almost as soon as Mother came to Kirkwall. Mother hadn't been there a year before w-I was born." 

Bethany's face rose in the midst of his memory.

"And your father?" Cullen furrowed his brow. "The Tevienter slave?" 

"Fenris. My father's name is Fenris." Leto growled out, his hands balled into fists at his sides. 

"I see. And the story about the Clan Lavellan?" 

"My-," He thought of Merril and felt a dull ache spread through him. "Friend helped me get to Keeper Deshanna. I was there for a few years before she sent me here." 

"Why did she do that?" 

Leto shrugged. He knew the answer of course, but he didn't completely trust Cullen. 

"Wanted to know what happened. I blend better with humans than the others." 

Cullen nodded and again promised secrecy., before taking his leave. Leto stooped down to grab some snow and washed his face with it. The fire boiling under his skin quelled a bit. 

First he went to his uncle. The dwarf was huddled by the fire, singing softly.

"Will you come with me to Redcliffe?" The words were choked as they came out.

"Course i will kid." Varric clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. After a moment he peered closely at Leto. "Feeling okay?" 

"Fine," the boy mumbled. "Just tired. We leave at sundown." 

He next approached Solas. The elf was reading in the dimming light, gold dancing across his freckled cheeks. Grey eyes found him and rooted him to the spot.

_ Elfroot and tanned leather.. old books… _

Leto's mouth watered as the scent assaulted him. 

"Dareth shiral, Harhen." He managed and Solas smiled. 

"Dareth shiral, Dalen." 

"Would you accompany us to Redcliffe?" 

Solas arched a dark eyebrow and licked his lips. 

"Us?" 

"Me," Leto gulped. 

"Of course," Solas got to his feet and Leto shrank a little in his shadow. "Have you chosen to side with the mages?" 

"We deserve to be free." Leto frowned. "Don't we?" 

"What do you mean, dalen?" 

"I mean," He looked up at the green scar in the blue sky, remembering the way he'd sealed the breach. The way the fire had burst from his skin and the words...the demons had whispered in his ear. "Not the monsters...not the abominations. The mages will be free. "

Solas frowned at him. 

"Have I ever told you about the Spirits who live in the Fade?" The elder asked, beckoning Leto closer. He obeyed, sitting beside the bench in the cold snow. It melted against his skin. 

"I have encountered many in my travels." He spoke in his smooth deep voice. He had an accent, one Leto couldn't place but was intimately familiar. "Spirit of wisdom and compassion. Of," He glanced down at Leto, wonderingly. "Freedom and Purpose."

Leto shivered, his throat dry. 

"A spirit...well. They are what they are expected to be. Wisdom can be easily twisted into pride, for example." 

"What about Freedom?" Leto blurted, listening eagerly. 

"Purpose to envy. But Freedom...Freedom…," Solas lifted his hand to Leto's cheek, fingers ghosting the curve of his jaw."Has not been seen in a very long time." 

"Oh," Leto breathed. Something stirred in his heart, the fire under his skin building, his body curving closer to Solas. 

Just then Vivenne came walking by.

"Hello, my dear." She drawled in a sickly sweet voice. "I was hoping to sit in on your lesson with this apostate of yours." 

Solas looked deeply into his eyes before looking up at Vivienne. 

"Of course," He purred. "Fetch your staff, dalen. That's enough reading for the day. " 

Leto obeyed, pulling ducking out of view. 

"Timid thing isn't he?" The Enchanter commented mockingly. "This is Anderaste's chosen?"

"Children are children, no matter their titles." Returned Solas. 

"Well we certainly can do better can't we?" Vivenne spoke and Leto felt tears burn his eyes. "As submissive as he is, he surely cannot handle the duties that will come with this inquisition? Is he truly the one chosen by the maker?" 

"He is not my Maker." Solas growled. Maybe. Maybe the Maker wasn't Solas'. But he was Leto's. The whole thing about him was his faith. His father cared little for elven gods but he followed the chant. His mother...well she was born Andrastian at least. Was he the makers chosen? Had he stolen someone else's place? 

The fire reached the point of no return as tears spilled down his cheeks. But when he seeped from his pores, it was ice, not fire that consumed him. A cool frost coated his skin, and he wept, from shame and relief before the frost reached his eyes. 

  
  


Bethany

The Tevienter's liked her. She had her father's skin and hair, her mother's delicate face, and the slim body of an elf. She could sing and dance, and her magic was beautiful. Exactly what they thought elves should be. It was flowers and trees, singing birds and sprawling vines. Alexius kept her close. He had cold hands and empty eyes. Expect when he looked at his son Felix. Then his eyes were full of love. 

She didn't trust them, everything in her felt betrayed at the idea of being a slave to a Magister. Papae had fought so hard to be free, for her to be free. Yet here she was. At night she would curl up in a soft bed and fall in sleep knowing she was safe, at least in dreaming. For in her dreams, Cole came.

He was beautiful. She wasn't sure if he waa real but he remembered her, followed her from Kirkwall, kept demons away. And he was beautiful. Pale skin and bright misty blue eyes, long golden hair hidden beneath his hat. 

" _ Hello, Cole," She whispered and he looked at her. _

_ "Soft and sad, like a dove with a broken wing. Hello, Bethany."  _

_ "I am a dove today?" She giggled, laying in the cool grass. In their bubble of the fade it was always spring.  _

_ "You both are." Cole answered softly.  _

_ "Both?" _

_ "Half of a whole, her face but his will, his face but her gift. He's coming. Leto."  _

_ Bethany blanched and sat up. _

_ "Leto? Here? Why?" She stammered. "When?"  _

_ "Soon. Because of you. Because of him. Something is eating him up. He thinks Fiona can fix it."  _

_ "Can she?" Bethany frowned. Fiona was rather old, and many thought less capable.  _

_ "She can tell him what to do…," Cole sighed. "Freedom lost his Pride, Pride forgot his Freedom."  _

_ "What are you?"  _

_ "Cole."  _

_ "Yes," Bethany laughed. "But are you a spirit? Or a demon?"  _

_ "No. I made myself more. I fix hurts."  _

_ "How?" _

_ Cole took off his hat and grinned.  _

_"I found my purpose." He said looking into_ _her eyes sweetly._

She awoke to a knock at the door. Felix came in, with Dorian. The altus was her friend, he was kind to her and often brought her better food than the others sometimes. He also took the time to teach her about Tevienter. 

"Hello, my lady," He winked, lounging in a stuffed armchair. "Did you dream of me?"

"Oh yes," She laughed, sitting up in bed, the blankets pooling around her waist. "You ran in and out of my dreams." 

"Naturally," Dorian posed and Bethany dissolved into giggles. 

"Have you heard...i mean has anyone new arrived?" She asked Felix nervously. She didn't know where Leto was or how he would arrive but she believed Cole. 

"I haven't. Are you waiting for something?" Felix asked. Bethany shook her head and he smiled sweetly. He was very ill, but he was handsome and kind. Not at all like his father. 

"Ah, well," Dorian shrugged, moving to her bed and flopping down beside her. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"A morning of wine and snark? Pure torture " 

"How will she survive it?" Felix chortled. 

They left her alone to dress and she ate a quiet breakfast with Dorian, wondering where her brother was. Afterwards she donned the silky red gown Alexius wanted her to wear. It was a tiny speck of fabric that hung from her neck. There were no sleeves, and the skirt was just wide enough to cover her, but left her thighs bare. She wore a silver collar and belt, and no shoes. She was an elf after all. 

Her stomach turned as she looked in the mirror. Time had caught up to her, she looked more like a woman every day. When she was very young, mother had cut her hair short and dressed her the same as Leto. She longed for the familiar heavy leather armour and soft boots. She longed for the dirty streets of Dark Town and the glistening towers of Hightown. She longed, above all for her family. Not just her parents and brother, but Isabella and Varric playing drinking games and Sebastian and Aveline teaching her about the Chant of light. Merrill answering her every question about the Dalish. She missed the warmth of home.

Once she was dressed she went down to Alexius. 

"Bethany, good morning." His smile was wide as he took her in. "You look beautiful, truly. I'd like you to-," The doors to the study flew open. 

"Magister Alexius," A panting boy gasped out. "The Inquisition is here." 

"Ah," Alexius laughed, hopping to his feet. "Wonderful. Where is Felix?" 

"The chantry, I believe," Bethany answered. "I can fetch him if you like." 

"Yes. Bring him to the tavern." 

Bethany dipped into a bow and left the room.

She skipped lightly over the stones and waved at the sisters as she passed. Young Connor sat on the steps and beside him- 

"Cole?" Bethany breathed and he looked up, with familiar misty eyes. 

"Roses and vines, Merrill would be so proud. Hello, Bethany." 

She crashed into his chest, hiccuping as tears spilled down her cheeks. Hr seemed bigger somehow, taller and stronger. It made her laugh a little, Cole had always seemed a wisp to her. Yet here he was-

"Here I am." He mumbled into her hair. 

"Do you know him Bethany?" Connor asked, looking Cole warily. "Bit odd, isn't it?" 

"Oh," Bethany frowned. "I don't think so. Have you seen the Magister's son?" 

Connor frowned. 

"You don't trust them do you? I thought you were smart." 

"I am." Bethany snapped. "Of course I don't trust them. But the inquisition is here, did you hear? Maybe they can help us."

"Oh I heard," Connor muttered darkly. "I met their Herald. He means to set us free. "

"Does he?" Bethany felt a surge of hope. "I have to go, Connor. Cole?" The boy sat crouched beside a flower absently picking at its petals. "Come with me, please." 

He followed her and together they walked to Chantry. 

"How are you here?" She asked. 

"The Magister is doing something horrible. I couldn't help him- I couldn't help you. Unless I became more. Do you understand?" Cole rambled a bit. 

“I think so.” She answered and she meant it. 

She pushed on the heavy doors of the Chantry and the pair slipped inside. Felix, who was standing near a pillar, jumped when they came in, but relaxed as he saw Bethany. 

“I thought it was someone-,” He stopped short at Cole and frowned. 

"This is my friend," Bethany blushed. "Cole. Your father has asked for you. The Inquisition is here." 

"Excellent," Dorian clapped his hands. " Felix, give this to the Herald. Bethany,'" he looked closely at Cole and smirked. " He's absolutely adorable." 

Bethany left Cole with Dorian and followed Felix out of the Chantry and toward the pub.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
